


Rhythm and Blues

by MissBaudelaire (IWillBeTheEndofYou)



Category: Dan Avidan - Fandom, Danny Sexbang - Fandom, Game Grumps, NSP - Fandom, Ninja Sex Party - Fandom, RPF - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 13:05:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11105154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWillBeTheEndofYou/pseuds/MissBaudelaire
Summary: Dan reflects on the reader, referred to as 'her', as he watches her sleep. Inspired by the song Jackie and Wilson by Hozier





	Rhythm and Blues

**Author's Note:**

> Fluffity fluff fluff. Tooth rotting! You'll hate it, sorry.

She laid, her body twisted. Her hips tilted, her hands up by her head. Her lips parted, her chest rose and fell. Dan hovered in the doorway, wriggling out of his shoes without bothering to untie them. He shucked out of his pants, peeled off his hoodie. He left the pile of clothes in the doorway. The rustle might make her stir, might make her wake up.

Dan hated to disturb her. She was so lovely when she was sleeping. He loved the way her cheeks went pink, loved the way the tension seemed to leave her forehead. She was smooth and soft, delicate and sweet when she was asleep. Dan crept towards the bed, stood with his arms cross to watch her for a few more minutes.

Of course she was laying on his side of the bed. She always did when he wasn't home. He couldn't complain much, he loved to lay on her side of the bed when she wasn't home. He loved to be surrounded by her smell of powder and lavender, candy flavored lip gloss and lotion. He loved that smell, loved nestling into her pillows that smelled so heavily of her, loved to pull them close to his chest and drift off if she wasn't there.

He was gone far more often than she was.

He only slept with two pillows, while she tended to require three. One under her head, one clutched in her arms, one between her knees or padding her hips. She claimed sore joints, aches and pains from being on her feet all day. How many times had Dan begged her to give up that job, come and stay home? He could take care of her.

It had been their biggest fight. She stood, her arms tightly cross around her chest as she said through gritted teeth that she could take care of herself. She hadn't fallen in love with him for his ability to take care of her. 

“Of course not!” Dan blinked. “I just thought you might want to do something a little easier.”

“Oh, so now you think I can't handle it? I've handled it for years, I'll keep handling it!”

“That isn't what I meant!” Dan hollered back, feeling cornered by the fire in her eyes and the venom in her voice. She wasn't tall, not by any stretch, barely even came up to his chest. But oh, she was a force to be reckoned with. He learned then to never, ever imply she couldn't take care of herself. 

Even if she did need him to pull the cans off the top shelf, or get the paper towels down at the grocery store, or carry the garbage down to the Dumpster, or move the spiders out of the house in a paper cup and NOT squished. She needed him in ten thousand little ways she would never admit.

Dan, on the other hand, never had any problems admitting that he was a mess without her. He loved coming home at night and seeing her having made something for him to eat, something that he could tolerate. He loved being able to see her sitting on the couch, reading a book. He'd plop down, slouch into her lap, and her fingers would begin to rub his scalp. She'd carefully stroke his curls, gentle so as not to pull. 

Some nights he couldn't sleep. He'd lay awake, trying not to toss and turn. He'd either rise to go and sit in the living room, a pad of paper on his lap, tapping it with a pen, scrawling here and then. Or he'd stare at her, trace the shape of her eyebrows with his eyes before letting his thumb take the same route.

And those nights she hum sleepily, roll into him. Her fingers would rest on his collarbone, or clutch his t shirt, if he was wearing one. He'd let his hand rest against her back and felt the steady thump of her heart, felt the pace of her breathing. He'd match his pace to hers and drift off, curled tightly against her.

“Baby girl?” he whispered into the stillness of the night. She stirred faintly, her eyes slitting open.

“Oh!” she gasped softly. “Oh! You're home.” 

She was always so happy to see him. She lit up, she made the room light up. Dan tamped down the warmth that was spreading from the center of his chest as she slid over in bed, her arms still held wide open. He laid down next to her, with her more on his side of the bed.

She draped herself over him, her head on his chest, his arm around her shoulders. Her leg spread over his hips. She fit so perfectly against him. Her face found space in the crook of his neck, her lips brushing against his pulse point.

“Love you.” she mumbled, already falling asleep.

“I love you, too.” he whispered back, his throat tight. Dan turned his face to kiss her forehead before falling asleep himself.


End file.
